


You've Got Mail

by writerposer



Series: A New Kind of Chemistry [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cum Lube, Letter fic, M/M, Modern AU, Sexting, Teacher-Student Relationship, boys trying to talk about their feelings and barely surviving the encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerposer/pseuds/writerposer
Summary: Roy writes Ed a letter.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Series: A New Kind of Chemistry [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022785
Comments: 24
Kudos: 84





	You've Got Mail

**January 6th, 4:00 pm**

Dear Edward,

I trust that the Australian sun is treating you well. The winters here remain harsh and unyielding. I regret never learning to ski, or otherwise adapt. As always, though tourists have flocked to enjoy the treasures of the Alps, I remain bound to the lab. You should be pleased to know that the new round of undergraduate students are much more resilient. Apparently your reputation made its way through the student body, leaving only the boldest to try to secure a spot within our program. There were many dour faces after news of your semester abroad spread, many such faces on our board of directors. You will be missed.

Best,

Roy Mustang

**February 10th, 2:30 am**

How the fuck do you manage to say so much and say so little at the same time. The sun here is fine I guess. The animals are much more interesting-- my little brother Al is a biochemist, and decided to spend the semester here after taking leave from his school in Beijing, so that’s cool I guess. The food here’s a lot better than in the stupid Alps. At least these assholes have heard of seasoning their food. If I didn’t have you feeding me, I’d probably have quit my degree in protest of the cafeteria. Anyway, I don’t have a real read on my new labmates, but I don’t think they like me much. I wish I had your dumb smarmy politics brain, I’d probably have more friends.

Ed

**February 12th, 4:45 pm**

Dear Edward,

I am shocked that your new lab mates have found your manner offensive. I will admit, your temporary PI, Dr. Marcoh, has written to me several times asking if all of my students turned out so insouciant. I assured him that you are, and have always been thoroughly unique. Your labmates here have grown accustomed to your brash way, and even miss it. I am attaching a recent video where Fuery did some damage to his eyebrows (which are now on the road to recovery). I’m sure whatever ire your new compatriots hold toward you will either dissipate with time as they come to know your brilliant mind and good heart. Then again, once they realize how your brilliant mind outclasses them, their jealousy may be too profound to overcome. Only time will tell.

I was unaware that you had a younger brother, though it makes sense that he would also share your scientific prowess. While I am biologically singular, I have several dozen foster sisters, who have taken to the hospitality arts rather than the scientific ones. I cannot imagine your dinner table conversations, and I am excited to learn of how your brother is potentially contributing to your research, assuming you can share the results with me. As we work through your experiments here in tandem, I hope you’ll be pleased to know that the results are as spectacular as ever, though I find the new crop of PhD students have yet to approach your standard of brilliance. I am attaching them alongside the unfortunate video of Fuery.

I hope this email has managed to say something.

Best,  
Roy Mustang

**February 23rd, 1:00 am**

It’s a start Mustang. You give off “raised in a harem” vibes, though I don’t know what your parents were thinking. At least it explains why you keep a blow dryer at your place. I’m sure whatever girl you pick up next will appreciate that kind of shit (she better not be a student though, or I’ll come back just to kick your shiny teeth in).

My brother’s a fucking genius. He’s already added so much to my ideas without even trying, he’s a natural. We both did our Masters at M.I.T., but he decided he wanted to try a non Western approach to his studies, so now he’s got a whole different approach to some stuff that I hadn’t even thought of. Plus he speaks Mandarin now. I always told myself I’d try to wind up someplace close to him, but he seems pretty keen to go back to China as soon as this semester is done, and I don’t know if I can hack it. Plus I think he’s got a girl he’s not telling me about, and I don’t wanna be a third wheel. It was bad enough when he dated Winry, I don’t think I can handle being alone in a country with only my little brother and his girlfriend for company.

The experiment here is going fine. I wish they’d repeated it before I got here, I feel like I’m treading water, looking at the same thing over and over and over. Plus, all these stupid Pharma execs keep hanging around like I’m their golden ticket. I’d rather put this shit up on reddit than be a millionaire. If this does what we think it’ll do, there’s no way I’m letting anyone slap a copyright on it. Attaching the latest results here.

Ed

**February 24th, 3:42 pm**

Dear Edward,

I don’t know what my parents were thinking-- they died when I was young, and I was taken in by my Aunt Chris. Her girls were a constant in my life, my friends and confidants, and despite the hazard of their profession, or perhaps due to it, they remained kind and nurturing, traits I didn’t manage to acquire.

I had assumed that it was you and Winry with a past-- when she came to visit she seemed quite protective of you, though that’s well within her right as a friend as well. I sympathize with your aversion to third wheeling. My closest friend, Hughes, is quite enamored with his wife, and now that they have a daughter, it’s difficult to find my place in his life. However, I’m sure you would thrive in any environment. I also am confident in your ability to find someone of your own to fill the days, surely you couldn’t have missed the heads you turned at our little school. I can assure you that you were my one and only dalliance with a student. I won’t pretend this fact is due to my poor moral compass. I would be hard pressed to find your equal.

How has the situation with your labmates progressed? Do they share your anti-capitalist zeal? Have you caused anyone bodily injury yet?

I’m afraid the bloodthirsty pharmaceutical executives have landed in our quaint town as well. I’ve fended them off best I could, feigned ignorance and incompetence, but they remain. Hawkeye’s ferocity is our best defense-- the moment she wavers, hell will surely be due for a snow day. I hope that if and when you return, you will be better able to come up with clever insults that my political mouth refuses to say. Candor is among the many things the university lacks in your absence. Even the floor tiles seem false without your leather boots clicking across them.

**March 25th, 2:06 am**

Oh shit, didn’t realize the harem thing was literal, but like I said, explains a lot. I don’t know about that other part, you were pretty nice sometimes, at least after you came. The rest of the time you were so grumpy, like you were trying to act older than you are. Which, I guess I don’t know how old you are, actually. It never really mattered to me, I guess. It’s weird, getting to know each other now, after all the bullshit. My birthday passed btw, so now i’m 23. Al baked me a cake, and we skyped Winry and Granny. Granny’s not actually related to me, she’s Winry’s grandma, but my mom died and my dad fucked off so they’re all we have. Here’s a picture of all of us in Montanna, where we’re from. Winry made my leg, that’s why she’s always hanging off me, I’m more of an experiment to her than anything. That’s not fair, she’s my sister, who once fucked my brother, but now everything’s cool and not gross.

For your own, probably sick, gratification, I haven’t tried to fuck Dr. Marcoh yet, or any of my other labmates. I guess you’re hard to measure up to, too. They’re nicer to me now that they think I’m their tickets to fame and fortune, though Al’s still my only friend here. Sometimes I feel like it’s only ever the two of us, and no one else exists. I don’t know what I’m gonna do after he leaves. I hate being alone, but you probably guessed that after the first time I slept on your lumpy ass couch.

Anyway, the experiment is going well, but people here are thinking so small. Good science takes time, but god, I want the next step. I don’t wanna spend my whole life waiting for someone else telling me when it’s ok to do what. Also, stop calling me fucking Edward. It’s Ed. Ed.

**March 26th, 6:00 pm**

I’ll call you Ed if you call me Roy.

Happy belated birthday. I’m 35 as of this past December, and feeling every year weigh on my soon to be hunched back. How I tricked you into spending time with an old man like me will remain a mystery that will plague generations to come, especially considering that I was only tolerable in bed.

Thank you for the photo, you all look like a lovely, formerly pseudo-incestuous family. Here’s a photo of me, my sister Vanessa, and my Aunt Chris. I haven’t seen either of them in a few years, not since becoming tenured here. Perhaps on my sabbatical I’ll make my way back to San Francisco, where I grew up, and my Aunt’s long running establishment still remains. The city has changed, I’m sure, as all things must.

I used to crave solitude. Living in a house full of sisters, I never knew a moment of peace, between being their punching bag and their dress up doll. Aunt Chris did well for herself, but school was expensive, so I attended a military academy with the hopes of gaining free education. That’s where I met Hughes, and discovered that no personal gain would be worth being forced to take a life, to being part of the imperial machine. I never had a moment of peace in the military either, bunking with dozens of men, under constant watch. When I left, I vowed to make a life for myself where I answered to as few people as possible. However, looking around my empty apartment, I fear I’ve overcorrected.

I’m sorry that you’re feeling so trapped. I feel the same way, at times. Sometimes I feel doomed to repeat the same mistakes, ad nauseum, a Sisyphus of my own making.

Roy

**April 30th, 4:00 am**

Royyy

Sorry my emails are so slow. Well, I’m not actually sorry. It fucking hurts to talk to you (and it sucks to fucking admit that shit). I think I hate you, a little bit. I hate that I always break first. I hate how fucking down on yourself you are, like God get over yourself. I hate that I miss you. Why can’t you just say you miss me too? You’re telling me the stupid board of directors misses me, the floor tiles miss me, fuery’s eyebrows miss me but you don’t? Bastard. Sorry, this is going off the rails a little bit. Al told me that I gotta be honest about how I’m feeling or I’m gonna be just like our Dad and that pissed me off so now I’m drunk and I never get drunk and i’m emailing you and you also piss me off but maybe that’s just what it’s gonna be like between us. Don’t you miss me? At all? Fucker.

**April 30th 10:07 am**

Ed,

I miss you. I love you. Please come back.

Roy

Roy closed the laptop, his fingers shaking. It was a Monday morning, but it was some obscure University holiday that he hadn’t bothered to remember the name of, and the lab was closed. The lab was closed and the liquor stores were all closed at this hour and his house didn’t have booze to begin with because Riza had downed it all with him after he finally admitted what had driven Edward halfway across the globe was his own emotional constipation. She had been largely unsympathetic, but told him she wouldn’t waste the chance to try his fancy booze. That was last Friday, after weeks of silence from Ed had left Roy utterly bereft. And then this last letter. He said it. He had said it. And now he was sober and alone and it was too early to be this sober and this alone.

Roy dragged himself up the stairs. If he couldn’t blackout properly, he could at least sleep off the day. As soon as Roy made it to his room, his phone pinged. Roy tried to ignore it, but three more texts came in rapid succession, and he reluctantly opened up his phone.

[Unknown Number]

Received >>11:07 That wasn’t so fucking hard was it.

Received>>11:08 you know what happens when u talk about ur feelings roy

Received>>11:08 you get a reward

Roy let out a shuddering breath, contemplating the texts. He wasn’t going to waste time asking who it was, and how he got his number, or how much these messages were gonna cost him.

Sent << 11:09 What kind of a reward?

Received>> 11:15 [Video Message]

Roy hastily clicked the video once he processed that the thumbnail, which appeared to be a very tan, gloriously bare stomach splayed across cotton sheets.

“Hi Roy,” Ed purred, setting up the camera across from his bed. It was night in Melbourne, but the other man glowed all the same, a delicious flush traveling down from his perfect cheeks down his chest, where the red hue disappeared underneath a terry cloth towel.

“I got started in the shower, I hope you don’t mind,” Ed winked, leaning back on his feet, buzzing with impish energy.

Roy breathed out quickly, as the man on his screen traced his pecs with a lazy hand, before undoing his hair, letting the locks rain down onto his shoulders.

“I’ve missed you,” Ed breathed, palming himself over the towel, “No one here has your particular brand of jackass.”

Roy felt arousal pool in his gut as Ed’s eyes drew him in. Even from a million miles away, the man created his own gravitational pull.

“I have to say, no one here manages to get under my skin like you do,” Ed said, dipping a hand underneath the towel.

Ed kept his actions hidden, though his head tilted back, a throaty sigh teasing from his lips, before bringing his other hand up to his mouth, a tongue darting out to taste the fingers, before drawing them into plush lips with a moan.

“Fuck,” Mustang grunted, quickly undoing his belt, when the video cut off.

Mustang frantically clicked his phone, hoping there was more, but the video was tantalizingly short.

“Well, I can’t say I don’t deserve that,” Roy groaned, prepared to finish himself off to the tease Ed left him, when a FaceTime call lit up the screen. Mustang ran a quick hand through his hair, and checked his breath, before aborting the useless gesture and answering the call.

“Hi,” Roy said.

“Hey old man,” Ed grinned wickedly. Though Ed was the one now gloriously bare, Roy felt exposed, if his own doe eyed look on camera looked half as pathetic to him as it did to the man now spreading his thighs wide.

Roy was speechless, watching the taut torso stretch to grab something off camera, before returning with a weighty piece of silicone with a clear tube beside it.

“Meet Roy junior,” Ed said, before drawing the massive red dildo between his lips, lapping sloppily at the head.

Roy could hear Ed’s lips smack as he pulled off, the moan muffled as he shoved the toy back in, it’s girth barely making it fit in Ed’s open mouth, the skin of his jaw taut with the strain. Roy’s cock fattened with the memory of those warm lips, and he quickly kicked off his pants to palm himself generously.

Ed drew the toy out once more, and let out a sigh.

“Now where else can I put this?” Ed said, comically patting the bed around him, before turning around, and wiggling his hips up, where Roy could finally see his ass puckering around a simple black plug.

“You gave this to me, do you remember?” Ed asked, wiggling his hips.

Roy swallowed around the blockage in his throat, “It was a Tuesday. We’d fucked on my floor, and then you said you wanted me all day.”

“Mmm, I think Hawkeye noticed me walking funny, but no one else had a clue.”

Ed reached up to work the plug out, moaning loudly as he worked it out, his hole gaping.

“You think I can take this?” Ed asked, wide eyed, holding the dildo in both hands.

Roy couldn’t even answer, struck dumb with desire.

“I guess we’ll just have to see,” Ed said looking back towards the camera, before unceremoniously shoving the toy inside him.

“Fuck,” Roy grunted, precum beading up in his palm.

“Fuck is right, God, you love making me do all the work, huh?” Ed sighed, shuffling up to position himself on his knees, drawing his hips up and down on the toy, his hard cock bouncing erratically, the man too impatient to set a strong rhythm.  
“God, god, god,” Ed rocked onto his back, knees casually parted, his wrist furiously working the toy inside him, his other hand grasping at the mysterious pump leading into the toy.

“Edward, Ed, my Ed,” Roy panted, working his hand furiously over himself.

Ed came with a cry, painting his chest with his spend, and grabbing the pump at the same time. Roy quickly followed him over, spilling into his hand. Ed sighed, his head flopping back, as he drew the toy out of his abused hole. Roy’s eyes went wide as white followed, an irresistible flood ruining Ed’s sheets.

“Cum lube. Neat huh?” Ed said with a smirk.

“Very,” Roy growled, vowing to get Ed more personally, before he remembered the other man was still on the other side of the world, because Roy was an unfeeling asshole.

“God I wish I could kiss you,” Ed sighed, before a flicker of uncertainty flashed across his face.

Roy sighed, feeling every bit the Bastard, “I wish I could kiss you too. I fucked up. Please come home.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ed said, leaning forward and hanging up, leaving Roy to the sound of his own demanding thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you'd like to see more : )


End file.
